


A Dreamless Sleep

by Gullviva



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas Decorations, Ficlet, M/M, Masturbation, Oblivious Harry, Powerful Harry, Snarky Draco Malfoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2017-12-16
Packaged: 2019-02-15 17:56:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13036404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gullviva/pseuds/Gullviva
Summary: Harry has trouble sleeping. Malfoy is making things worse - or better.





	A Dreamless Sleep

The silky fabric of his invisibility cloak swished around Harry’s feet as he made his way back towards the Gryffindor tower. The portraits were either absent or sleeping silently in their frames as he passed by. His magic was buzzing wildly, just beneath the surface of his skin. Muttering under his breath, Harry had to make a conscious effort to keep from stomping his feet with every step he took through the winding corridors. That way of walking felt the most natural and fitting to his current mood, but the accompanying noise would certainly, and most unfortunately, give away his presence to the many festive bells decorating the castle at the moment. The many-coloured bells were charmed to jingle merrily in the presence of students and faculty and not even his invisibility cloak (now more of an open secret) was likely to get Harry out of trouble if the bells gave away that a student was out of bed at this time of night.

School rules applied to everyone, a stern McGonagall had reprimanded him in a similar situation a few weeks prior – in fact, they _especially_ applied to Harry, since so many of the students looked up to him.

So much for getting some leeway for being the supposed Saviour of the Wizarding world…

Harry huffed. They had even cut off his supply of Dreamless Sleep recently, after finding out that Harry had built up a tolerance over the last few months and now needed quite a bit more than the recommended dosage to obtain the desired effect.

This also just happened to be the reason why he was out of bed at the moment, and it also tied in to why he was in such a foul mood.

The night had gone much the same as most nights did since he had been off the potion. After trying and failing to fall asleep for an hour or three – ineffectually tossing and turning in his too warm bed up in Gryffindor tower, Harry had finally become desperate enough to toss his covers aside and venture out to raid Madame Pomfrey’s potion cabinets.

Although his fervent brain had managed to convince Harry of the legitimacy of his claim on the coveted sleeping draught, his plan for getting it had unfortunately not been very well thought out. Arriving at the hospital wing, Harry only cast a quick muffliato over the door leading to Madam Pomfrey’s quarters before going straight to rummaging through her cabinets. There was, however, one other occupant in the room which Harry had managed to overlook in his haste.

“What in the bloody hell do you think you are doing, Potter?”

Harry had frozen at the sound of the familiar, albeit sleepy sounding, voice. Malfoy. Of course it was Malfoy. Harry had vaguely remembered hearing about the Slytherin getting hit by a particularly nasty stinger that day.

“Oh, come on. I know you are there Potter,” Malfoy had continued. “I can see your ugly footwear.” Malfoy’s drawl had made his disgust with said footwear quite clear to Harry.

Shit. Harry had quickly adjusted his invisibility cloak to cover him better, not that it really mattered at that point though.

“Fine, stay silent. I’ll just call for Madam Pomfrey, see how she likes being burglarised…” Speaking in sing-song, Malfoy had still somehow managed to sound threatening. A talent of his, clearly.

Harry had finally tossed the hood of his cloak back. “Shut up, Malfoy. You don’t need to call anyone.”

“Oh, touchy.” Malfoy had smirked, moonlight glittering in his grey eyes. Harry had remembered being glad to find Malfoy being back to himself at the start of the year, so unlike the waif of a boy he had appeared as at the Death Eater trials. But in that moment Harry didn’t feel glad any more, only incredibly annoyed.

“Look, Malfoy, just go back to sleep. This doesn’t concern you.” Harry still felt like he had acted rather graciously up till this point. But Malfoy simply wouldn’t let it go.

Malfoy had just sneered at this. To Harry’s ever growing frustration, he even seemed amused! Apparently having realized what section of the cabinets Harry was rummaging through, Malfoy continued unperturbed. “Not sleeping well, are we?”

“I said Shut Up!” Harry’s fuse had never been particularly long, and his lack of proper sleep lately had hardly helped him in that department.

“Aw, is the Golden Boy having bad dreams?” Malfoy had smirked smugly and Harry just couldn’t take it any more.

“No! I told you to _shut up_ , you don’t know what you’re talking about!” Harry had taken a few angry steps towards Malfoy’s bed when he had begun to feel the tell-tale signs of errant magic crackling in the air – his magic. This happened more and more lately and the power of the turbulent magic only barely within his control was starting to scare him.

So Harry had done the only thing he could do, he had run – leaving both a startled Malfoy and his precious sleeping draught behind.

The swift walk through the castle had hardly managed to calm Harry at all. The entrance to the Gryffindor Common room swung shut behind him with a faint sound and Harry finally felt safe to live out his frustration by stomping his way through the festive but slightly overly decorated room. The softly twinkling fairy lights did nothing but add to his annoyance at this point.

The other boys in his dorm room were sleeping soundly when Harry entered, opting to move quietly once more for their benefit. He tossed aside his cloak and kicked off his shoes before climbing into bed and pulling the curtains shut. Out of habit Harry cast a quick muffliato on the curtains, so that his friends wouldn’t have to wake from him screaming – again. Harry rubbed his tired eyes, sometimes he wondered if he might subconsciously be causing his own insomnia, simply to keep the nightmares away.

Harry laid down on his back and pulled the duvet up to his chin, trying to settle as best as he could without the soothing effects of the Dreamless Sleep potion. Harry turned to lay on his right side instead. But whichever way he turned the simmering anger from his argument with Malfoy still had him on edge – making it impossible to relax.

No good.

Harry groaned. It was clear that he would have to do _something_ if he wanted to sleep tonight. And he desperately needed some sleep at this point. His first brilliant plan clearly hadn’t worked, so instead Harry opted for the only other thing that he had found to help relax him enough to fall asleep – wanking.

He wasn’t exactly ‘in the mood’, so to speak, but that hardly mattered these days – it was merely a means to an end. A way to release some helpful, calming chemicals into his system and help him relax, or so a red-cheeked Hermione had told Harry in an incredibly awkward conversation they had had after the faculty had decided to take away Harry’s supply of Dreamless Sleep potion.

Harry decidedly pushed any thoughts of Hermione from his mind as he tossed the covers aside and started softly tracing the outline of his flaccid prick through the worn fabric of his pyjama bottoms.

He closed his eyes and tried to focus on the sensation of his stroking fingers as his mind worked to conjure up vague images of jiggling tits and shapely bottoms. But – nothing! Harry just didn’t seem to be feeling any of it tonight, and on top of it all Malfoy’s smirking face kept showing up and interrupting his half-formed fantasies. And so he had to start over again and again, frustration building with each interruption.

After accidentally imagining the blond snickering at his sorry attempts at wanking Harry finally snapped.

He would wipe that bloody smirk right off Malfoy’s face, see how he liked it. Harry pushed his pyjama bottoms down and took a firm grip of his exposed, suddenly filling erection. He imagined Malfoy’s eyes widening at the sight of his filling cock.

Yeah, that’s right. Bet you weren’t expecting that! Harry grinned cruelly at the surprised Malfoy in his mind. Harry’s grip tightened around his prick as he started slowly moving his hand up and down. Fuck yeah. Harry would shut him up for good! He would make Malfoy suck it, force those pale lips apart and drive himself deeply inside. He could just see it before him now – how Malfoy’s jaws would work uselessly against the intrusion as his grey eyes filled with tears. Malfoy would hate it…

Harry’s eyes flew open and his hand stopped moving immediately, he shook his head reflexively to clear it of the disturbing images. Harry didn’t like that fantasy _at all_. Urgh, it made him feel dirty and wrong. He did not want to imagine Malfoy like that.

No, instead, Malfoy would love it!

Harry closed his eyes again, happily letting his hand continue its ministrations once more.

He readjusted the image of Malfoy in his mind – smirking confidently at Harry instead of covering in fear. He could feel his prick pulse in his hand in response. Yeah, that’s the way Malfoy should look.

The devious blond would size Harry up with an appreciative glance and then proceed to slowly lick his pink tongue over those sharp, white teeth while looking Harry dead in the eye. Harry could feel a shiver run down his spine and he started tugging at himself faster.

Malfoy would smoothly sink to his knees, but even while kneeling before Harry he appeared no less powerful than ever. He was exactly where he wanted to be.

‘Come here, Potter.’ Malfoy would purr and, breathless, Harry would comply.

Teasingly, Malfoy would blow his warm breath over Harry’s erection – would lap the air with that pink tongue and almost, _almost_ reach Harry’s twitching cock.

Malfoy would, of course, snicker at this – pleased to no end with himself. The wicked Slytherin would look up at Harry through his lashes, eyes glittering with mirth as he very deliberately blew a hot stream of air over his shuddering prick once more.

Harry groaned out loud.

Malfoy would be delighted by this response and proceed to reward Harry by finally, _finally_ licking a long wet stripe up the underside of Harry’s neglected erection. Harry swallowed thickly at the imagined sensation and the image Malfoy made.

The blond would lick and nibble playfully at the shaft until Harry was breathing heavily. Malfoy would then move to place a few dizzyingly soft kitten-licks on the head of Harry’s cock before giving him a crooked smile and placing an open-mouthed kiss in the same place. He would suck lightly before deepening the kiss, making his wetted lips slide over the ridge of Harry’s cock head.

Harry bucked into his hand at this, imagining Malfoy to be on the receiving end of the aborted thrust. Encouraged by Harry’s reaction, Malfoy would smile deviously around his mouth-full and take Harry deeper.

Harry moaned softly, imagining reaching down to comb his hand through the blond’s silky locks, tugging gently – Malfoy would like that as well, obviously.

Malfoy would bob his head up and down, lapping his tongue at the underside of the shaft before sucking softly, causing his cheeks to hollow ever so slightly. Merlin, he looked hot.

Harry was tugging at his weeping prick with steadily increasing urgency as he imagined what the insides of Draco Malfoy’s hot mouth would feel like – what it would be like to watch his length being sucked further and further into that mouth. Harry could imagine it all so _so_ clearly. Malfoy’s pale lips would redden and swell slightly as they stretched repeatedly over the flesh of his erection. Those lips…

Suddenly all Harry wanted to do was lift Malfoy to his feet and kiss that red, hot mouth. The blond would be surprised at first, before moaning softly and giving himself over completely to the kiss. Malfoy would lean into Harry and reach to wrap his arms around Harry’s neck. Those swollen lips would open for him and Harry would taste himself on Malfoy’s tongue and –

“Aaghhn – ah!”

Harry was seeing stars. He climaxed violently over his stomach and over the sheets, but couldn’t care less about the mess as the waves of ecstasy rolled over him. The kiss felt so real and Malfoy felt so incredibly close, it wasn’t until his mind had gone completely blank and quiet that he fussily remembered that it had all been a fantasy.

But such a nice fantasy.

Harry sleepily cast a clean-up spell without really thinking about the fact that he did it wandlessly, before crawling under the covers and falling into a deep dreamless sleep.

______________________________

The next morning Harry woke up feeling well rested for the first time since… Well, it had been a long time. He even caught himself humming a Christmas carol while searching his chest of drawers for a pair of matching socks; a doomed venture as always. In one solid red sock and one yellow with a golden snitch motif, Harry made his way over to the bathroom to wash his face.

He was in such a good mood that even the still vivid memories of last night didn’t manage to bother him. Harry rather easily came to the conclusion that it wasn’t a big deal. So he had used Malfoy for wank material, so what! After all, it obviously didn’t mean anything – it had merely been a means to an end!

Harry joined up with Ron and Hermione in the Gryffindor Common room and the three of them started heading down to get some breakfast, charmed bells jingling softly as they passed through the halls, chatting easily.

Unfortunately, Harry’s good mood only remained intact until they reached the Entrance Hall. As they passed, the heavy doors opened to let three students in. The students’ coats and scarves were trimmed in green and silver and the three of them were laughing happily together as they tumbled in from the cold outside.

Harry froze where he stood as he caught sight of Malfoy, Zabini and Parkinson – no, as he caught sight of _Malfoy_. It was apparently snowing outside, Malfoy’s cheeks were rosy from the cold and he had a light dusting of snow in his blond hair. Their eyes met across the hall and before Harry’s mind stopped working entirely he absently registered that a few snowflakes had managed to catch in Malfoy’s eyelashes.

Harry could feel his face flush violently as realization hit him like a sledgehammer to the face.

Well, shit.

**Author's Note:**

> This just wanted to get written today, I really had no choice in the matter!  
> I like the idea of this ficlet being open-ended so I will leave it like this, but if anyone feels inspired to write a continuation I would love to read it!  
> Much love and thanks for reading<3


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